Chopsticks
by ThatGentlemanIgirisu
Summary: Would the great hero be able to accept the new challenge before him? Of course he would! After all Alfred F. Jones never backs down from a challenge. If kids could use chopsticks then how hard could it be? America will soon find out. Fluffy AmeViet. Sorry for OOCness


Plates clattered and loud conversation could be heard as a couple walked into a Vietnamese restaurant. The couple consisted of a tall male with blond hair, blue eyes, and glasses and a shorter female with straight black hair in a ponytail and golden eyes. The male was Alfred F. Jones and the female was Lien Chung, otherwise known as the personifications of America and Vietnam respectively. The two had been dating for a few weeks and tonight Vietnam decided it was time for America to try something different other than his traditional fast food. The two were greeted by the host and given a waiter who led them to a table and handed them their menus.

"I will come back when you are ready to order," the waiter said as he walked away. Vietnam nodded and looked at her menu.  
"See anything you would like to try Alfred?" She asked him. America pouted as he skimmed the menu,

"Not unless there's a juicy beef patty in between two soft buns on this menu," he replied flatly. She sighed and put her menu down.

"You'll miss out on new experiences if you only do the same things," she said with a serious tone staring right into Alfred's blue eyes. He sighed, he knew she was right. He had to try new things and stop acting like a child for once; _just this once though_. She had been trying numerous American dishes he had chosen, so it was only fair that he try a Vietnamese dish right?

"Sorry Lien. What do you recommend?" She smiled slightly, happy to have gotten through to him. She turned her menu towards him and pointed to a dish.  
"This has always been one of my favorites and it's very common all over my country it's called Pho."

"Okay then that's what I'll get," he gave her his one-of-a-kind smile causing her to smile back at him. It always made him feel happy whenever he had seen Vietnam smile. After all it wasn't something just anybody could do; it was something that only _he_ could do.

The waiter returned to their table balancing two plates of food and two drinks. They each took their plates and drinks and carefully set them on the table. The waiter then handed them each a pair of chopsticks and left them to enjoy their meal.

Vietnam pulled her chopsticks apart and began eating her meal. America followed suit pulling his chopsticks apart, only when he went to pick up his food it slipped in between the two sticks and fell back to the plate. He tried again only to have the same thing happen another time, and another. America was holding one chopstick in each hand while trying desperately to get the food to reach is mouth. He then tried to violently stab the pieces of steak with the chopsticks only to have it slide off onto his lap before reaching his mouth. Vietnam looked at America and was forced to stifle her laughter. America noticed her looking (really laughing) at him and he put down his chopsticks as his face went beet red. He looked away from her and at the food on his plate.

"I…I don't know how to use chopsticks okay," he mumbled embarrassed.

"Well I could see that much. I have no problem instructing you on how to hold them Alfred," she offered. His bright blue eyes looked at her golden ones, that trademark smile returning to his face as he nodded his head eagerly. Taking her chopsticks in hand, Vietnam demonstrated the proper technique.

"First you take one chopstick and rest it on your palm and your ring finger," America did as she instructed. "Next place the other one on top and hold it with your index and your middle finger. Also make sure to hold them above the halfway point." This is where America began having difficulties. He tried doing it as she said but the chopsticks were not cooperating one bit. When he went to pick up some noodles they slipped from in between the chopsticks. Starting over, he readjusted the chopsticks in his hand, but the noodles still kept slipping back onto his plate. He repeated this process again and again getting more aggressive each time until he became frustrated. He stared down at his plate of food which was staring back at him mockingly. He was the United States of America! The hero! Why was this so difficult? He'd beat all the bad guys he'd ever faced, overcame all the challenges that have stood in his way. But he couldn't hold two little twigs in between his fingers and pick up food?

A little boy sat at the table in front of theirs and laughed as he watched America's sad attempt at using chopsticks. The boy taunted him, using his chopsticks to pick up noodles with ease. America glared back at him and stuck his tongue out at the boy. He was not about to take THAT from some kid! The boy stuck out his tongue back at America angering him more.

"Alfred…What are you doing exactly…?" she turned behind them and saw the boy making faces in their direction just before being smacked on the head by his mother. Vietnam turned to America and smacked him on his head as well.

"Don't pick fights with children." America sighed and laid his head on the table in defeat.

"Liiiieeen this is too hard," he whined putting the chopsticks down. She gave him a stern look.

"Come on Alfred, you shouldn't give up so easily," she scolded. "You just need to have better control." Vietnam stood from her seat and walked behind America. America's blue eyes followed her as she walked behind him and grabbed his hand causing him to blush.

"Here, like this," Vietnam said gently as she squeezed his finger tips and picked up the noodles and brought it to his mouth. Still flustered America opened his mouth just enough for her to stick the food in. She smiled softly, "How do you like the food?"

"O-Oh it's great! Not as good as a burger, but still good," he nodded. She let go of his hand.

"Now you try," With new found determination America gripped the chopsticks in his hands fiercely. He swiftly moved the chopsticks towards the white plate and pinched the noodles once more. America's eyes widened as the noodles once again slipped down to the plate. He slammed the chopsticks down and put his hands in his face. Vietnam looked at him, almost feeling sorry for him. She took his chopsticks in her hand picked up the noodles moving it towards his mouth. She poked the chopsticks at his fingers and America looked at her from in between them.

"What is it?"

"Here," she said gesturing to the noodles in her hand. America's eyes shined brightly and he hugged her tightly. Vietnam would have smacked him with her paddle...if she had it with her. So, instead she had to settle with playfully bonking him on the head with her fist, it was gentle though. America smiled and sat back down at the small table. Likewise, Vietnam took her place across from him. She reached for his chopsticks and picked up the food. America leaned forward towards her waiting hand; only, he did not eat the food off of the utensils. He was aiming for something much better. A blush grew on Vietnam's face as the space in between them grew smaller and smaller. As their lips gently touched, Vietnam cupped her hands around America's face and the two stayed like that for a few moments before breaking apart.

"Thanks for tryin' to help me Lien."

"You're welcome."

"Oh and one thing."

"What is it?"

"Next time...Can we eat at a restaurant that has forks?" A small giggle came from Vietnam's throat.

"Yes, Al. next time we can eat at a restaurant that has forks."


End file.
